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Lost Little Puppy... [Open] [12 Aug 2006|11:18pm]

[ mood | frightened ]

Xylon was frightened.

Of course, this was not an entirely unusual occurrence. After all, Xylon was frightened of everything in the known universe (and somethings unknown).  But this seemed to be a special occasion, for Xylon was frightened for a specific reason. Rather than being a gelatinous puddle of shaking Servant for absolutely no reason at all.

The specific reason was in fact very important, because it begs the question of how it came about. But of course, the monologue seems to be getting ahead of itself. Xylon was frightened because he was lost. And as said, the reason now brought to light begs the question of how it came about. Unfortunately, Xylon had no bloody clue.

Hence the fright commenced.

"L-lon? H-how d-did I g-get here?" Xylon spoke softly, his stutter making the words almost impossible to understand. He had a tendency to do that when scared (stutter, that is), so of course, his speech was consistently impeded.

"And how am I supposed to know what Xy gets up to in his spare time? I'm not his keeper..." For a moment, Xylon's voice deepened, and the stutter was lost. Ice could have formed with those words, the contempt so palatable. A hand came up to tuck long hair behind an ear and stopped mid-motion.

"B-but...Xy p-promised not to m-mess around...." Back came the stutter, and the breathiness of tone. Xylon looked in confusion at his hand. Hadn't he had it down by his side?

"And you believed me kid? Damn, you're more gullible than I thought..." There was a smirk now, one that screamed arrogance and vanity. Xylon's voice had become smooth and sultry. Even Xylon's body posture seemed to have changed, proclaiming confidence. 

"Xy....you p-promised!" Xylon slumped once more, curling in on himself like a kicked puppy. "You p-promised you w-wouldn't do anything t-to get the M-master's m-mad at us anymore..."

"Ah, don't worry kid. I didn't do anything too bad..."

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[Open] Improvised Vandalism [18 Jul 2006|12:24pm]

Too hot.  Must swim.

These thoughts whirled about in Drassix's mind as he considered the very source of his problem - there was no sun with which to produce this unseasonably humid, hot air that had taken it upon itself to shove its way into every crevice and every room of the Castle so that, in the end, trying to keep cool was like trying to order stubborn, sweaty old men out of one's bedroom.

His only riches were the beads of sweat spattered across his broad shoulders and huge arms.  He had shucked his cloak once again for this foray into the castle, and melted into his shadows in order to explore the unseen cobwebbed corridors of the Castle.

Having uncovered a vast and open area that seemed to Drassix's limited imagination a prime location for a new indoor swimming pool, he had taken his knife and unscrewed a number of pipes after trying to redirect their twist turns, like manipulating black metal serpents into pointing their fangs in the right direction.

Then he had turned on the water.  Above the empty 'pool', the pipes hung precariously, trembling, before exploding one by one, projecting a huge spray of cold, clear water into space for several long moments before they splashed and plummeted into curved bowl in the floor.  This room didn't appear to have a name - no one came here.  Apparently no one would happen upon the sudden presence of a glittering pond in the center of it.

Afterwards, the water pressure dwindled into a pathetic, weak trickle, and Drassix clambered down to the clean water in order to peel off his shirt and trousers, bunch them up, and then jump into the water.

Cold.  It send a universe of stars exploding behind his eyes, and he came up sputtering and shuddering, frozen beyond belief, but, gods be praised, at least he wasn't MELTING anymore.  Unable to feel gladness but feeling something like a leaden ball in his belly melt away with the water's caress, he dolphin kicked his way back to the edge of the pool and leaned his arms on the edge, shivering and never so glad to be so cold in his life.
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Reconnaissance [Xemnas, Saïx, possibly Runix and Araxi later] [14 Jul 2006|09:13pm]

Finding Xemnas had never been particularly hard for Saïx, even though the castle was quite large and the Superior's movements weren't as predictable as some might have thought. For one thing, he'd have been a pretty sorry example for a diviner if he couldn't figure out where someone was within a building they were both occupying(an incredibly minor power that barely took any energy at all), and for another, Saïx had spent enough years working closely with Xemnas to have some insight into the workings of his mind. So it wasn't long after the Superior's return to the castle before Saïx stepped out of his portal onto the Altar of Naught and saw Xemnas standing with his back to him, looking up at the sky.

"Superior," he said quietly, by way of greeting.

[OOC: I have been ttly lazy with Saïx I'm sorry ;-; *gets off her ass*)
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Innocence is Ugly [Open] [24 Jun 2006|08:24am]

Xigbar probably should have learned by now.

No, Xigbar most definitely should have learned by now. After all this time of trial and error, he definitely should have come to the realization that if he took away one of Xaneth's outlets, the boy would simply find another. Otherwise, Xaneth's sanity would probably have unraveled at a much faster rate these years past. As it was, he was all kindness and smiles and good intentions, as innocent as the day he first floated in and cast himself at Xigbar's feet in a mess of trembling reverence, awe, and fear.

Xaneth's stunted ability to express himself had worn on his sanity in subtle ways, wearing places thin here, fraying and edge or so there. So, on surface, he was unchanged. Bubbly, well-meaning, loving, even. (Because if there was one thing that Xaneth could not be convinced, it was that they did not have hearts. No one really spoke to him about it, and he never offered his opinion in return. No one really spoke to him about anything, actually.) So far, only the cognitive part of Xaneth's mind had been affected by his mute status and illiteracy. His trains of thought no longer ran on rails.

Xigbar had taken his drawing pad away, so he was drawing out a massive, monochromatic mural of nondescript Organization members and himself, hearts and music notes floating between them. On a ceilng. Out in the middle of the corridor.

Xigbar had taken his crayons away, so it occurred to Xaneth to work with what he had, so the entire portrait was being drawn in blood.

Xigbar really should have learned by now.
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[Axel, Demyx, & Flux] Misdirection. [21 Jun 2006|01:56pm]

He'd been playing around with the portal to Twilight Town. This was, of course, expressly against the rules that Xemnas had laid out, but then, as long as no one was around to catch him, it wasn't as if Axel had ever laid any importance in rules. He was starting to figure it out, a bit, especially as he portal changed and wavered as he tampered with it--certain set patterns of magic were more stable, Twilight Town the most stable of all, and others were fragile, about to shatter. He figured that maybe worlds had "frequencies" in magic just like radio had in waves, and maybe each of these stronger signals meant another world lay outside... simple enough.

And it would be just as simple, Axel thought, to trick Demyx and Flux into exploring a world that wasn't Twilight Town. All he had to do was alter the familiar base frequency slightly to another, random, stable one before they all jumped in. Flux had no idea how to use magic or even sense it on himself, which was mostly why Axel had chosen to take him on this particular trip, and Demyx was, well, Demyx--and although Axel had disliked the idea of traveling with him at first, he had soon realized that Demyx was probably the only Master that would fall for something like that, and hey, additional firepower (or waterpower) as well as another moving target was always welcome to come with him.

Luck was smiling on him as always.Collapse )
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[OPEN] The New "Dog" [20 Jun 2006|06:18pm]


It was extremely difficult to find a place in this castle where there were no shadows.  It was all bright, bland, unfeeling light, as if its creators couldn't create any true ambience if they tried.  Therefore, with frustration mounting, he left the castle to wander in the darkness of the Dark City.  It was a relief to feel the darkness and some of the street lights on his skin,making shadows for him to mix with, prowling like a true beast in the silent corridors that were devoid of any life at all.  It was peaceful in a way.  Too bad he couldn't truly enjoy it for what it was - a terrifying silence that whispered death at his back and in his ears.

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In which the holy ruin the pure [20 Jun 2006|03:14am]

Xemnas/Enix UNF UNF UNF (NC-17)Collapse )
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Boredom is a state of mind... (Open) [19 Jun 2006|11:36am]

Zexion was bored...

...Which happened to be a rather common occurrence as of late. As it was, the teen was sitting in one of the many rooms of the castle with a pile of jigsaw puzzle pieces strewn out around him. Most were sorted by color; dark blue in a small pile off to the side here, lighter blue next to it, greens on the other side there, and so on.

Currently, Zexion was at work piecing together the outside edges. It was much easier to work on puzzles if the edges were sorted, especially ones of the size the silver-haired Nobody was putting together--the nearby box claimed there was 5,000 pieces. The most the teen could do was hope he still had all the pieces.
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V'là l'bon Vent [Open] [18 Jun 2006|11:10pm]

"Le fils du roi s'en va chassant, avec son beau fusil d'argent," Jenx sang softly, black eyes lidded and unfocused on a piece of chocolate he held in front of him. "Visa le noir, tua le blanc, Ô fils du roi, tu es méchant..." His mouth twisted into a smirk.

He was perched, a leering gargoyle, on the edge of Memory's Skyscraper, illuminated dimly by the neon lights that lined the building. The light was stale, sterile, barely enough to see in, but just enough to make out the moving black mass beneath the skyscraper. In that light, Jenx smiled.

"D'avoir tué mon canard blanc, par-dessous l'aile il perd son sang," he sang into the dark city, the slighest breeze brushing his hair against his cheek. "Par les yeux lui sort des diamants, et par le bec l'or et l'argent." On the last his voice dropped to a whisper, just loud enough to be heard over the wind. Elex was sleeping in the castle, and his services went unneeded by the Masters. He would stay here until he was called, looking out over the edge of the building like a king surveying so many crawling, cringing subjects.
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Jumping the Gun [Closed to Araxi] [18 Jun 2006|03:44pm]

Runix still looked tousled and a little bit sleepy when he left his Master's room, but at least now he was dressed...for the most part. He'd developed the tendency to walk around the castle without shoes, gloves, or anything beyond the necessary coat. If anyone had a problem with it, well, he imagined their lives must suck.

Even with the sleep and the potion, he was surprised at how quickly his energy recovered. He wasn't bouncing off walls anymore, but he was beginning to feel that familiar, urge to slaughter everything in his path. This was a mixed blessing, as Runix was usually more interested in open-heart surgery without anestesia than faceless mass slaughter. He yawned. Maybe he just needed something to do. If only Saix had given him something productive to do tonight! If only he could get out of...wait, he could do that now, right?

Runix grinned widely to himself.

Even though Saix could be overly indulgent, he wouldn't allow something like that before the whole meeting thing, would he? Like hell Runix was willing to wait.

He would just find his own way off.
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[Finished!] The Question Game: Luxord and Saix [17 Jun 2006|07:43pm]

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Rumbly Tumbly! [Open] [17 Jun 2006|02:10pm]

Demyx was hungry.

He tried to ignore it for a while, strumming on his sitar and bouncing one foot. Gurgle. His mouth twitched. Nuh uh, he was gonna finish this song and- Gurglegurg. His fingers paused on the strings, and he sighed. "Fine," he whined in a mumble at his stomach, his sitar vanishing as he stood. He shouldn't even be able to be hungry. Zexion had tried to explain it to him once, something about subconscious desires and placebos and Freud. Or was that something else?

He whistled to himself as he walked through the corridors, hands in his pockets. He could make a sandwich or something! With lettuce. Yeah, lettuce. The thought made him grin.

Eating was just the thing to take his mind off of all the stuff that'd been happening lately. No hearts, portals to other places, Xigbar being a tightass (not that that was new). He didn't know what to feel about it... Ha, feel about it. Not that he could. His whistling slowed to a stop then, and he walked silently down the white corridors.

Screw a sandwich. He could really use some cookies right about now.
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[Clsd: Luxord, Kensax]For the love of the game. [17 Jun 2006|03:25pm]

Luxord had indeed brought out the chess set, as promised, for the Servant to come and play him and see just how... good he was.  Of course if any of the other Masters had a problem with it, they could always make it interesting with wagers rather than sit and complain about it.  Sometimes, Luxord thought, they act more like grumpy old bastards than I should.

In retrospect, this chess game was a good idea.   It helped get his mind off of Marluxia and the fact that, no matter which way he turned it, he just couldn't put the time and effort into giving a damn about whatever Marluxia said.  Whatever "fun" though it may be, he wanted to return to his old school ways, and enjoy a friendly game with a stranger.

He just wondered how soon the little Servant could get here, because he was getting sleepy.   He played with a few coins, having learned to twirl two rather than one over his knuckles.  They shined and glittered, flipped them quickly, one-two... one landed on heads, and the other tails.  Oh, pretty, now they're a couple!
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The Discovery [Closed] [17 Jun 2006|10:33am]

"We have no hearts."

It was that one statement, made to himself, by himself, alone on his Altar of Naught, that caused a cataclysmic shattering in Xemnas' mind. He had spoken it quietly, but he knew that those four words resonated throughout the castle, into the ears and minds of every other black- or white-coated creature inside that spiraling mess of a castle. Everyone, whether they had known it before or not, now realized the full extent to which they were different. Whether deformed or perfect, fully remembering their past or having only a tiny shard of rememberance, everyone would now be forced to come to terms with that which made them all the same.

They were nothing. Collapse )

[ Open. ] Introductions. [17 Jun 2006|01:32am]

It was with a book in one hand that Xreis entered the hall, closed and held loosely at his side, a book that he hadn't been able to let go of when leaving the library earlier for the first time in weeks. He'd made good use of the fact that he no longer had any sort of biological body during that time, not bothering to pretend to need food or sleep and shutting himself within the doors, avoiding whatever contact he could, and had gone through at least half of the texts, pouring literature non-stop into his brain. Some of them had felt familiar; others, he could recite by heart; and others, the ones he took the most interest in, he had never seen before. He'd read and read and read some more, mimicking the actions depicted in the descriptions and saying all the dialogue out loud, trying his best to feel the characters. And he'd failed every time.

But as frustrating as each failure was, he found that he couldn't stop, not even able to put down the last book before leaving. He had to find a way to make it work; it was his only hope, to try and remember what he'd once known. After all, what use was an actor that couldn't feel? Or forget even feeling, what good was an actor that couldn't even remember how to properly mimic emotion? And that was what he was, an actor, the only thing he remembered from his past life, and the one thing that he could cling to with absolute certainty. He'd known, once. It was just a question of memory.

He'd remember it, one way or another.Collapse )
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[ Finished. ] Of Lies and Loyalties... [16 Jun 2006|08:42pm]

Flux. Axel ran the name silently down his tongue, pulling his hood up over his head as he strode toward the castle gates, silent and serious and deflecting questions and greetings with anonymity and total apathy. Chain-boy's name was Flux, and of course Axel had heard that by now: it was, in fact, rather hard -not- to hear him, what with all the yelling and screaming and cursing that was now constantly ringing down the servants' quarters. As far as he knew, Flux didn't have a master: he'd caught something about the other missing servant Deuxce, but then, that could always be officially or unofficially changed. And someone as wild and dangerous (he'd heard something about biting and kicking) and more importantly, someone as intelligent-but-just-unintelligent-enough as Flux seemed to be definitely held... possibilities. Not as an agent, of course, but rather as a blind, violent, expendable lackey.

His, not the Organization's.

It was all a matter, Axel thought, of pre-emptively winning them over to his side before they decided to go batshit crazy on him. Crazy people tended, he knew, to make strong ties to a small number of objects or people and keep those obsessive loyalties forever. Axel intended to make himself one of those people.

Reaching the gates, he took a glance behind him to make sure it was clear before pulling his hood back to reveal the fiery-red hair that would let anyone in the castle recognize him immediately. They were probably already wondering why he'd ever go out of his way to help someone, and especially someone that he'd never even met before, and having anyone follow and watch would just make it worse. Not that he was complaining about looking like he treated the servants well, merely avoiding the prying questions. Points in his favor in anyone's book were always welcome.

After all, he had to make sure that everyone at least half-trusted him, didn't he?
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Der Null Pirat [Open] [16 Jun 2006|02:41pm]

This whole castle was just so interesting! Roxanne didn't remember what she'd seen, but she was sure this castle was nothing like it. Pirate ships didn't have invisible floors that lit up when you walked on them. At least, she didn't think they did. That was kind of magical and pirates...well, pirates aren't very magical, are they?

She was kind of lost, but she didn't really care. Being new, she was still learning the names and locations of everything. She didn't recall that this particular room was called the Ruin and Creation Passage, nor did she recall it's exact location in regards to her master's wing. That was okay, though, because she was enjoying watching the walkways light up under her feet, and was busying herself with cavorting up and down them.

Her attention was so focused on the ground that she would not have noticed anybody entering the passage. In fact, she would have been rather surprised to meet another servant. She had yet to see one, though her master had informed her of their existance. She was looking forward to running into somebody, possibly making friends. It was starting to get a little lonely for her here.
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[Finished] 'Community' Service [16 Jun 2006|09:03am]

Over the past few days she had actually become almost thankful for her lack of heart. Having a heart would have meant that being guided around by the gambling prone Deuxce was embarassing. Having a heart would have meant that losing her hand was infuriating. Having a heart would have made her asking of her master to retrieve the limb shameful. And haveing a heart would have made her current punishment more than slightly unnerving. As it was Coruxi was merely bored with the whole thing. As it was she was finally going to get away with checking out the 'garden' thing.

And there she was too, clad in her white servant robe and doing her best to avoid each and every plant she laid her eyes upon. In silence she moved through the garden, looking carefully for the hint of black fabric that would betray the presence of the master of this place to her. Of course she doubted she would be the one to see him first. To say she was out of her element would be more than an understatement after all. The only thing here that was metal, other than the walls and some odd lamps, was her arm. So much natural life was quite unnerving. Being so far away from metal, though it seemed to clear up her directional sense, was almost painful.

Still there was no black, and she had been wandering, very carefully for almost five minutes. Her eyes took in the look of the plants around her, shivering at the memory of the itching some had previously caused that had only been cured by Luxord turning her into a giant dice. Another shiver ran up her spine. Why the hell had her mistress found it fitting to punish her like this? It was Axel's fault that she'd accidentily crushed some of that itching vine the last time, and yet Larxene was sending HER to make up for it? It was far from fair.

Then there was that disturbing warning Marluxia, the master of this place, had given quite recently. What exactly could there be that worse than simple itches? Damnit, all she wanted to do was some 'community service' and get back to the safety of her metal room where she could await her hand. But no, she was stuck here. Probably wasn't surprising then that her real, gloved fingers lingered over a place where her former staff turned sword was now hidden. No way she was going to be a victim of this garden.

So finally, in desperation or annoyance (one could not be sure with her), Coruxi called out, her voice sadly not echoing as pleasantly as it would in a place with more metal. "Master Marluxia? Mistress Larxene has sent me to see you..."
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[Closed] Snake in the Garden [14 Jun 2006|02:06pm]


The little Heartless didn't normally make any sounds.  The Gambler rarely heard them scream before.  But it seemed to be a running game that the other Nobodies played, to torture and tear at them until they broke under the pressure and made the most bizarre crooning and shrieking.  It was... heartbreaking.

Luxord thought so, poking at the shadowy, formless innards of a Heartless in his room.  He was content to leave science to the professionals, but he was curious, and curiousity was one of his "emotions" he treasured.  The little critter squirmed and wriggled, bound by chains he'd borrowed from one of the science labs, from someone's full permission.  He poked, prodded, his patience limitless as he waited for the little sound to come out of the Heartless again.

There it was!  The end of his knife punctured a tiny organ somewhere.  At least he thought that's what it was.  And the creature gave a shudder and  a whimpering, yodeling howl and started to struggle.  Then it went still, absolutely still.  

Luxord poked it again.  "That's all?  What a wilting disappiontment."    He dropped the knife onto his tea table as soon as the Heartless began to disperse and go elsewhere.  It might reappear and probably remember the torture it had been submitted to and never come within ten yards of the castle again.

The chains he could return later.  He dragged them away from the wall and put them in a box to deliver back to the labs.  In a completely gratuitous show of boredom, he wiped a hand over his forehead and then quickly combed his hair with his fingers back into place.  He pouted at the ceiling, laying on his bed, before standing again quickly, sweeping the bag of tea Marluxia had given him off the table onto the floor.  "Poison,"  he muttered, "keep your poison from my sanctuary, garden snake."

And there was the small matter of that Servant's metal hand.  It was still in his drawer.  Just... sitting there.  He really didn't want it anymore!  Honestly.  It was an eyesore even when he couldn't see it.  Crossing his room to the drawer in question, he pulled it open, revealed the metal hand and dropped it with a thunk onto the bureau.  It was ugly, really.  And that girl had almost killed him... that was a mistake.  Never again.  If there was even so much as a hint of danger from her, he'd make her a die in a second and drop-kick her off Havoc's Divide.

Little snitch.  Perhaps Larxene won't be pleased, but since when did I ever care what that fat cow ever thought?  Let her come like that little wench's mommy.  I won't underestimate her Servant, but I won't give her respect she doesn't deserve.

He poked at the metal hand once before turning to pick up the bag of tea.  He smelled it again.  It didn't smell that good, now that he was digesting its aroma once again.  Marluxia made good tea, but he was secretly waiting for the day when Marluxia would kill them all... not that it would happen soon.  That's simply foolish.

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Memorial Meetings [Backstory] [Closed to Resilyx] [12 Jun 2006|08:08pm]

The halls were empty. Completely and utterly empty. As they usually were.

Except for one small figure, gold-haired and tan-skinned, running full-throttle across the floor and taking corners with hairpin turns. Xepyr had discovered that he could easily get lost in the mazes of the Castle if he didn't try to go anywhere and just let himself run, run, run forever in the endless, empty white corridors. It was fun, sometimes, because occasionally he found rooms that nobody had ever found before, or rooms occupied by suspicious people doing suspicious things, or just . . . new rooms. With things in them. Sometimes not, but sometimes with.

It was more than just fun. It was exciting.

At the moment, the eyeless creature was tearing down a hallway not far from Havoc's Divide, the area belonging to Luxord. He recognized the walls (he'd run down them before and left a few gougemarks in them via his claws; they were unbound and flapping wildly behind him, just like his hair) and nearly frowned, were it not for his ever-present grin. He needed to get somewhere else! Somewhere away from here! Somewhere that he didn't know where he was, what he was, or who he was. That would be fun!

Familiarity was boring.
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